The Story
by writersblock24
Summary: Ranger tells Stephanie some things about his past and sees how she reacts. One-shot. Babe. Based LOOSELY on the song 'The Story' by Brandi Carlile. I don't own anything!


Hi. Remember me? Yeah, it's been a while, but I'm back! After some rooting from Two Guns and a Knife, I finally got something out. So thanks Babe, for cheering me on! This is for you. I hope this will get me back on the writing bandwagon so I can get my next story out. I've got some good ideas I want to share!

Not mine (characters or song I based this story loosely on). Remember, this ISN'T a songfic. Its just a story that I came up with all on my own that just happens to be inspired by a song (so it's my own work with Janet's characters that came to me while listening to it. No different from being taken from a show or movie). "The Story" by Brandi Carlile (or Sara Ramirez... Callie from Grey's Anatomy (honestly, both are good)) is a great song and you should check it out on youtube before or after reading the story.

Okay, I think that's it with the A/N. Sorry its so long. I've been gone for quite a while...

Please enjoy!

* * *

I splashed water on my face and sighed. It was going to be another long night. The past has a funny way of coming back to haunt us at our most vulnerable.

Mine was always come at night. Always the same. God's cruel and cosmic joke for me.

I hope I didn't wake Stephanie.

There was so much I wanted to tell her. But every time I try, my mouth stops. It's as if my mouth knows the minute I tell her, she'll bolt. When Denial Land can no longer save her and she sees me as the monster that I am.

But the thing about my Babe is that she already knows the whole story. It's written on the scars on my body.

Looking in the mirror, they say more than my mouth ever could. The knife would on my right shoulder, left hip. Grafts from close bombs in dense jungles. Bullet wounds on the right ribs, abdomen.

Neck. My constant reminder of the lengths I'd go to save her.

"Hey," Stephanie said, voice rough with sleep. She rubbed her eyes clear, like a child would. My pulse quickened. A woman could own every piece of sexy lingerie in the world, but nothing got me harder than my Babe wearing only my shirt.

"Everything okay?"

"Fine, Babe. Did I wake you?"

"No." She smiled softly. "My bladder did."

I grinned. No one in the world made me smile like she did. I kissed her forehead. "I'll leave you to it."

Flopping around, I tried to get comfortable. The dream kept coming back. Bombs exploding and I'm standing around watching friends, colleges, and barely out of basic army boys bleeding out in front of my eyes.

And I'm helpless to stop it. No gun, no knife, no way to protect them.

Even my body betrayed me. All I could do was stand there, silently screaming.

I shivered and rolled again.

Stephanie came out a few minutes later. She crawled in next to me and I cuddled her close. She sighed happily.

Just when I thought she was asleep… "That's the third time this week."

"I did wake you up."

She shrugged. "I had to pee anyway." I felt her pause. "Are you sure everything is okay?"

I rolled to turn on the light. When I looked back, concern was all over Stephanie's face.

And for the first time, I knew we were at a crossroads. I could brush her off, and she'd take it, but there will always be a chasm between us. Or…

I could tell her. Tell her everything and let the chips fall where they may. If she runs, then she isn't the woman I thought she was.

I took her hands and laced our fingers. "I'm going to tell you as much as I can. The stuff I can't… I'm not hiding it. I just can't."

Her face looked serious. "Okay."

"It all started ten years ago…"

And I told her everything. Starting from the very beginning with my decision to drop out of college and join the army. How full of myself I was back then when I got recruited by the Rangers. How that turned me into a mercenary.

I told her about some of the jobs (in as little detail as possible) that still haunted me. How I ignored orders to save lives instead of take them.

How I practically had to sell my soul to the devil to get me out of my contract so I could be with her. How I would do it again, just for her.

And she sat there, barely blinking, barely breathing, and taking in my words. When I was finished, she nodded and got up.

My heart sank. She was going to get some air and tell me that she couldn't be with me.

Instead, she came back a few minutes later with a bottle of water in her hands.

"Here," she said. "Your throat's had one hell of a workout for the past hour." A teasing smile graced her face.

"Thanks."

Stephanie climbed back into bed and crossed her legs. I sipped my water and watched her think.

"I smell smoke." I said, trying to keep the moment light. I caressed her leg. "What's going through that pretty mind of yours?"

"I have one question." She started. Then paused and bit her lip.

The worst of the worst went through my head. How fast did I want her to pack? Could she borrow a car to get her stuff back to her apartment? How could you be so cruel to so many people? How could I kill for money?

Instead… "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

For the first time in my life, I was stunned silent. Sensing my shock, she went on. "I'm not some big boobed bimbo that you sleep with once. We're partners." Her fingers threaded through my hair. "You can trust me with anything."

"I know I can trust you. It's just…"

"Are you sick? Is it PTSD? Are you afraid that I'd walk if I thought you weren't whole?"

She could always see right through people. It's one of the reasons I and my men love her so much. "It's not PTSD, Babe. But I was worried you would."

"Oh Carlos." She sighed. She put her forehead on mine in a comforting gesture. "When we're together like this, you don't have to be Batman. Be Carlos."

"You fell in love with Batman."

"No, I liked Batman. But I fell in love with _Carlos_. The man behind the mask. The one who has feelings and is very real. Batman is your persona to Trenton. That's why I still call you Ranger in public and sometimes around the guys. But here…"

"You scream 'Carlos'?" I grinned.

"For two good reasons. One, you're just that good. And two, it's who you are when we're here. You let your guard down. _That's_ who I love."

I kissed her deeply then. She took me from feeling like I had nothing to the most powerful and richest man in the world. I would be forever grateful to her for doing that.

"I love you so much."

"Good. Now let's show each other just exactly how much."

"Yes ma'am."

* * *

In the following weeks, Stephanie and I became stronger. We were a solid unit. Working together during the day to keep clients happy and catching skips. Making love at night when the dreams got too bad and I needed something real to cling to.

Even the guys started to notice my turnaround. I was smiling more and Stephanie was the reason for that. Santos was keeping a running pool about how long the good mood would stay. When I found out about it, I was supremely pissed.

Stephanie won seventy-five hundred dollars.

All betting aside, Stephanie kept my secret. She told me that they didn't need to know. If it wasn't affecting my work, what was personal could stay personal. They all thought I was happy because we were finally together. They had no idea how deep it really went.

I was grateful of that when the nights were really bad.

The dreams came less frequently. I only have Stephanie to thank for that. Any other woman would have turned and ran. But not her. She faces every day and every night head on. Making sure I don't lose myself in those dreams and holding me when I come back to her. Whenever I have a bad one, she makes me tell her the nightmare and the story it belongs to. She listens and reminds me of the good things in life. How they made me who I am. How they brought me to her. It's beginning to help. Stephanie's the strongest person I know.

That's why we were made for each other.


End file.
